Chapter 6 - The Viper's NestWithin forty-eight hours of the explosive press release, the shockwaves reverberated from Wall Street to the underground docks of Boston. The Sterling family empire was in freefall. Their stocks plummeted by seventy percent as federal agents raided their Manhattan penthouses, uncovering offshore accounts funded by stolen Moretti data.
Inside the sprawling mahogany-paneled office on the top floor of Moretti Tower in New York, Clara sat behind an expansive oak desk that had once belonged to Damian’s grandfather.
She was reviewing a portfolio of suspicious real estate acquisitions in Baltimore when the heavy oak doors banged open.
Vanessa Sterling stood in the doorway.
She looked a wreck. Her hair was unwashed, her designer clothes rumpled from spending thirty-six hours in holding before her high-priced defense lawyers managed to post bail. Gone was the untouchable ice queen; in her place was a desperate, feral creature burning with pure, unadulterated hatred.
"You," Vanessa hissed, taking three rapid steps toward the desk.
Clara didn't flinch. She slowly closed the file folder, looked up, and rested her hands neatly on the edge of the desk.
"Miss Sterling," Clara said evenly. "You're trespassing. This building requires a security clearance that your current legal status revoked."
"You little trash!" Vanessa shrieked, lunging forward with her fingernails bared like claws, aiming straight for Clara’s face. "You ruined my life! You stole my fiancé! You think you won because Damian gave you a desk?!"
Before Vanessa could cover even half the distance, the office door swung open wider. Two security guards grabbed Vanessa by the arms, yanking her back violently and pinning her against the wall.
"Let me go! Do you know who I am?!" Vanessa screamed, thrashing wildly.
"I know exactly who you are," a cold, lethal voice echoed from the doorway.
Damian Moretti walked into the office. He hadn't bothered to wear a jacket; his white dress shirt sleeves were rolled up to his forearms, exposing the lean muscle and faint scars of a man who had fought his way to the top of an empire.
Vanessa’s screaming hitched into a terrified sob. "Damian... please. It was a mistake. My father will fix this, we can still—"
"Your father filed for bankruptcy four hours ago," Damian interrupted, his voice devoid of any human warmth. He stopped beside Clara’s desk, resting one hand casually on the corner of the wood, standing protectively close to her. "And you are facing a federal indictment for industrial espionage."
"You're doing this for her?" Vanessa pointed a shaking finger at Clara, tears of rage streaming down her ruined makeup. "A maid?! You threw away a multi-million-dollar alliance with my family for a servant who cleans toilets?!"
Damian turned his head slowly, looking at Vanessa as if she were a particularly repulsive insect.
"Clara saved my company from being hollowed out by parasites," Damian said quietly. "You poured paint on her because you thought you were smarter than everyone else in the room. You underestimated her. Just like you underestimated me."
He nodded to the guards. "Take her out. And if she ever steps foot in any property bearing my name again, throw her in the river."
"Damian! You'll pay for this! Both of you will burn!" Vanessa screamed as the guards dragged her kicking and thrashing down the hallway, her voice fading into the distance until the heavy doors clicked shut.
Silence settled back over the office.
Clara let out a slow, steady breath she hadn't realized she was holding. She looked up at Damian, her dark eyes sparkling with a mixture of adrenaline and respect.
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"You didn't have to throw her out quite so dramatically," Clara dryly noted.
Damian looked down at her, the harshness in his eyes instantly softening into something dangerously warm. "Drama is good for morale. Besides, nobody insults my chief of operations and stays in my building."
